


Adventures in Babysitting

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Pavel Chekov, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Old Friends, Starfleet, Vulcan Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Captain Sulu asks Ensign Tuvok to keep an eye on his old shipmates after they get into the Romulan ale.
Relationships: Implied Rand/Chapel, Pavel Chekov & Nyota Uhura
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Star Trek Fics





	Adventures in Babysitting

Captain Sulu steps into his conference room and is promptly tackled by Uhura. “Sulu,” she crows, hugging him. “Chekov, look, Sulu’s here.” 

“Hello, Sulu!” Chekov says from the other side of the room, smiling dopily.

Sulu takes a good look at his old crewmates. “Did you two get into the Romulan ale?” 

“YES,” Chekov says. 

“The first bottle was a little bitter,” Uhura admits, swaying on her feet. “But the second bottle was smooth as hell.” 

“Wow. Okay,” Sulu sighs, struggling to keep the commander from tipping over. “Look, I need to be on the bridge right now, but, ah…” He glances behind them. “Ah, Ensign Tuvok. Please keep an eye on these two for now.”

“Aye, sir,” the Vulcan behind him says, following him into the conference room. 

Uhura’s eyes light up. “Hi there, ensign!” she says sweetly. “Have you seen Captain Sulu’s sword? Sulu, you still have a sword right? Do you show the sword to your crewmen?” 

“The captain often fences with the senior staff,” Ensign Tuvok supplies. 

Uhura grins wickedly. “With his shirt on or off?” 

“Okay, I’m going back to the bridge,” Sulu sighs, guiding Uhura into a chair. He glances at Tuvok. “Don’t let them drink anymore.”

“Aye, sir,” the ensign says with a nod. Sulu leaves and the conference room door slides shut, leaving Tuvok in the room with two drunk commanders. Tuvok moves to the replicator. “Two glasses of water, five degrees Celsius.” The glasses materialize in the replicator alcove, and Tuvok carries them to Chekov and Uhura.

“Five degrees Celsius,” Uhura says, raising an eyebrow. She takes a sip of the water. “Just the way I like it.” 

Tuvok says nothing. 

“Oh, where are my manners?” Uhura sighs, tipping back in her chair. She holds a hand outstretched to Tuvok— her pinkie and ring finger pressed together, her index and middle finger struggling to meet. “Live long and prosper.”

“Are you attempting to do the Vulcan salute?” the ensign says. 

“Nyota,” Chekov says, leaning across the table. “You are doing it wrong. It’s like this,” he adds, also doing it wrong. 

“Whatever,” Uhura sighs, making a swatting motion. “So… you’re Mr. Tuvok, huh? Uf wu ma du dvin-tor k' Sulu?” 

Tuvok blinks a few times, looking startled. “Du stariben Vuhlkansu?” 

“Nash-veh stariben wehk natya gen-lis heh dialects,” Uhura replies proudly. 

Chekov blows a raspberry. “I have  _ no _ idea what the hell either of you are saying.”

Uhura turns to him. “Вы бы предпочли, чтобы я говорил по-русски?”

“Much better,” Chekov says. 

“To answer your question, Commander,” Tuvok says, “I have served under Captain Sulu for approximately two years.” 

“And he’s a good captain, right? I always thought he’d make a good captain,” Uhura says. 

“He is admirable,” Tuvok says. 

“He always was,” Chekov slurs, raising his water glass in a toast. “To  _ Captain _ Hikaru Sulu.” 

“To Captain Sulu!” Uhura agrees, clinking her glass against his. “Ooh, you know what’s missing? We should call Janice. I want to talk to Janice,” Uhura announces, standing and swaying toward the console on the other side of the conference room. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna hail Janice on subspace.”

“That communications relay does not have the range to send a subspace message over a number of light years,” Tuvok says.

“Pfft. It will when I’m done with it.” Uhura flips a few switches and switches two of the cords beneath the table. “There we go.” She plugs in the communications codes. Soon enough, Janice Rand’s face fills the screen. 

“Hi, Janice!” Chekov practically yells, waving. 

“Pavel?” she says, squinting at the screen. Her hair is rolled in curlers and she’s clutching a glass of wine. “What’s going on? Everything okay?” 

“Better than okay,” Uhura says, sliding into view of the camera. 

Janice shrieks, waving her hands. “Nyota! Babe, how are you? God, I haven’t seen you since that gala on Betazed.” 

“I’m doing good, we’re doing good,” Uhura assures her, scooting around the table so she can loop an arm around Chekov. “Remember Sulu’s ship? We’re on it!” 

“I— I can tell that, babe, I saw the serial number,” Janice laughs. “What are you doing there?”

“Drinking mostly,” Chekov says. 

“Yep,” Uhura confirms. “Ooh, hi Christine!” she adds, pitching her voice louder. 

Janice’s face turns red. “Wh-wh-why would Christine be here?” she stammers, but her poor cover-up fails when Christine Chapel yells back, “Hi Uhura!” 

Janice scowls. “How’d you know?”

“Bones is a huge gossip,” Uhura reminds her. 

“That Southern fried bastard,” Janice sighs. “Okay, yes, Chris and I are— are—”

“Running away together to live on the moon!” Christine calls from offscreen. 

“Sure. Maybe. Who knows,” Janice says, visibly biting back a smile. “I don’t know,” she adds, dropping her voice conspiratorially. “It’s all just… fun and new. She’s so… I don’t know. We keep each other young.” 

Uhura squeals and claps her hands, looking delighted. “That’s so sweet. Isn’t that so sweet, Pav?” 

“It’s adorable,” he agrees, swigging water. “She is kind of rubbing it in our lonely faces, huh?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Uhura says, elbowing him. “We’re single and thriving.” 

“We have a Vulcan babysitter,” Chekov says. 

“Spock?”

“Not Spock!” Uhura laughs. “Wow, Janice, there’s more than one Vulcan. Tuvok, get in here.”

Tuvok sighs and comes to stand behind Uhura and Chekov. “Hello,” he says, giving an awkward wave rather than the traditional Vulcan salute. 

Janice waves back, her hair curlers bobbling. “Hello, Tuvok. I hope Captain Sulu is treating you right?” 

“He is a wise man,” Tuvok says with a nod. “It’s been an honor to serve under him.” 

“One time Sulu gave me a potted plant and it tried to eat my cat,” Janice recalls, eyes misting over with nostalgia. “He felt really bad about it, though. Even took Missy to the vet for me.” 

Tuvok doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he just nods. 

“What’s better than this?” Uhura sighs, leaning back, tipping her head against Chekov’s shoulder. “Old friends, new friends.” She clumsily pats Tuvok on the elbow. “This is what Starfleet should be about.”

“Getting drunk and abusing Federation resources,” Chekov says.

“Here here!” Uhura raises her water glass and tries to clink it against Chekov’s again, but she misses. She and Chekov go for a second try but their coordination is off. 

“You two keep me young,” Janice laughs, unfurling her hair from its curlers. 

“Really?” Tuvok says flatly. “I’ve been with them for half an hour and I feel that I’ve aged a decade.” 

Janice cackles at that. Chekov just smiles dopily. “Get used to it, Mr. Tuvok,” Uhura says, patting his arm. “You’re gonna be serving with kookier people than us before your career is over.” 


End file.
